


The King Returns

by Shay_Nioum



Series: Intrulogical (Logan/Remus) [6]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, King is very gay and very married to Logan, M/M, Remus and Roman refuse, he is also very dramatic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-03 11:51:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20265334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shay_Nioum/pseuds/Shay_Nioum
Summary: The night that Remus and Roman cease to be, and King returns aren't exactly what one would call a messy or even a climactic one. But it is eventful.





	The King Returns

It was midnight when he finally woke up, the aching of his bones was the first thing that greeted him upon returning to consciousness and abruptly sitting up. The second was the sound of his own gasping sputters as oxygen squeezed itself from his lungs for what felt like the first time in years, his chest and his very heart ached as he sat there for what felt like forever as the minutes ticked on by. He could see the grand soft golden walls of his bedroom, mixed with a lovely deep shade of green that looked like the finest cut emerald. Everything around him seemed so utterly familiar, and yet… like it was all from a distant dream. Many of the things in his room felt as if they belonged to him, from the scabbard that laid by his bedside table, to the corkboard that had a whole bundle of red string connecting sheets and papers. Was any of this really his, who could say? 

There was one thing that he did know, however. And that was the fact that he was breathing… he was alive. 

Standing took quite a lot out of him, like a newly born doe attempting to rise up on unsteady legs, he couldn’t help but giggle at the imagery of someone like him floundering around almost taking a nosedive to his lush red carpet that had quite a few mysterious stains on it. It was interesting, finding a new way to walk, even standing was its own adventure as everything around him seemed to change as soon as he stood up stumbling on his own two feet. 

“Well, that was a lovely mistake!” He couldn’t help yet another laugh as he glanced around at all of the books that lined his walls, the scrolls and quills that looked to be quite old despite the closed laptop atop his desk pushed out of the way for two separate plates of food that had grown cold as untouched as they were. Was the food poisoned? Had it been tampered with when he had been unconscious? Would it make his stomach explode in continuously gruesome fashions until there was nothing more than a pile of meat and gore on the floor? Or maybe it would transform him into an animal, like a slug that would have to slowly and carefully slink his way through the thick carpet in a valiant effort to find a way to reverse the transformation. Maybe it would just straight up.. or rather gay- up make his eyeballs explode right out of his head, as odd as that would be. 

Maybe it would even-

Whatever his train of thought had been about to trail down to, it stopped dead as soon as the noises of someone else outside of his room reached his ears. 

Others? Others who knew him? Who knew of him? 

Glancing at the clock, he found it highly doubtful that anyone other than himself would even be awake at this time. How many people would be awake at five in the morning of all times? 

Regardless of the question that was soon about to be answered, he seized the golden and green cloak before fastening it to his shoulders, he had to look presentable after all as he stalked towards the door. Peering out, there was a single lit doorward in the hallway that stretched out before him, all except for one, one that had a faint light gleaming behind it. Not enough to have a major light on, but rather something like a desk lamp on or something. Regardless, he moved forward with the purpose of a thousand noble steeds, as he ventured towards the stairs that led down into the kitchen where the odd noises had originated from. 

He should have brought his spear with him, that was... if he even had one, to begin with. 

His hands remained curled into fists as he slunk around the wall, his back pressed firmly against it so that no demon could sneak up behind him. His footsteps were as silent as could be as he reared his body around the corner, ready to tell off whoever was there at this time of the night, just for his body to abruptly freeze as soon as his eyes landed on who was standing there next to the coffee pot waiting for it to fill up before he went back upstairs. 

He felt his mouth go dry, all while a strange lump of emotions swelled in his throat. 

He knew this man, he knew him well before… before… Before _it_ had happened to him. 

“Logan,” The name was like the whisper of a promise as he rushed forward not even bothering with the silence that he had been dutiful to uphold, happiness unlike anything he had ever felt before blooming like a wild rose stalk in his chest. Piercing his heart with its thorns, leaving him to bleed out for this side, and for this side alone. “_Logan_.” 

He raised his hands as soon as Logan’s cup had come clattering down against the surface of the counter before swiftly spinning around at the sound of his own softly whispered name. His mouth opened, ready to spout off an explanation, an apology, or just an excuse as to why he was up so early. But all of that died on his lips as soon as his eyes landed on the form of the person that stood in front of him, perhaps for the first time in his life the logical side was completely and utterly speechless as his mouth remained open and gaping at the other side in front of him as his eyes burned and stung with the threat of oncoming tears. He didn’t know what to say, he didn’t even know if he could say anything. The words lingered on his tongue, waiting to escape his open mouth. 

But… he couldn’t, not until the side in front of him finally touched him. Cupping the side of his face, proving to him that this wasn’t some sleepless hallucination that he was suffering from given his lack of overall rest. He had never been the best with emotions, even at the best of times, but now… now he felt as if he was completely coming apart because of them. 

“_King_,” The hoarse whisper left his lips, that one sole word that said so much with so little as the creative side that towered over him gazed down at him so longingly as his trembling finger gently caressed the logical side’s bottom lip. 

A look of agony drenched the creative side’s face as the tears escaped Logan’s eyes, drenching his cheeks, “Oh my dear,” King hurriedly but gingerly moved to wipe the tears away, his black painted nails glimmering in the light of the kitchen. “I am so so sorry,” He apologized, not even really sure for what he was apologizing for. “I left you for long and,” Memories that weren’t quite his stapled themselves over his mind’s eye, memories of harsh nicknames, a jagged weapon being thrown at Logan’s head, undoubtedly meeting its mark. King choked, “I’m so sorry,” He didn’t quite know where to put his trembling hands, but in the end, he settled for just cupping Logan’s face. His beautiful wonderful face that he had caused so much pain. “I am so sorry my dear, for everything that I did.. Everything that I said. The pain that I caused...” 

A sensation similar to having his heart torn open and then stuffed with a firecracker was all that he could feel, the only sensation that he would let himself feel. 

But even so, Logan’s face only reflected confusion. “King,” A humorless smile curled on Logan’s lips, it was a smile that King couldn’t help but to fear, to fear everything that it meant to him and Logan. “You usually aren’t one to tell lies.”

The creative side’s arms constricted around Logan, dropping his hands from the logical side’s face down to his side as he wrapped his arms around him. It was the kind of hug that could not be escaped from, the kind that an octopus normally wrapped its prey in, except… this was Logan, he never wanted to hurt Logan, he never wanted to see him hurt… never. But even that tight hold didn’t stop the agonized whimper from leaving his lips, a whimper that sounded all too similar to a dying animal than to anything human. 

Just what had he done… no, what had happened while he had been gone to make his dear believe such things? 

He pressed a sloppy tear-soaked kiss to Logan’s ear, “I promise you, Love,” He whispered, his cheek rested against the messy bird’s nest that Logan called his hair. “I am sorry for what happened in my absence, and if I have to spend the rest of my days remedying it… fixing your broken heart back together. Then I will do it, I will climb whatever mountain you wish me to, I will eat carrots, I burn for you love to give you whatever warmth you desire. Just.. just tell me, and I shall make it happen.” Every word rang with the finality of conviction and truth.

He wanted to cling to Logan, to let his fingers hold the logical side through the night. To fall asleep next to him, and to wake up seeing his beautiful face each and every morning. But… even if Logan did not want him, if he wanted the version of him that donned a red sash or even the one that wielded the morning star with a terrifying accuracy… then he would rip himself in half to ensure that it happened. 

Logan’s arms curled around his midsection and squeezed him tight. 

“Just…” There was a pause, but even so, he was listening to every word that could possibly leave the other side’s mouth. He listened to the way that his breathing rose and fell, the way that he sniffled in an attempt to get every word out. And he felt the way that Logan merely just gripped him tighter, his pristine uniform wrinkling under his fingers, not that King cared one little bit. “Just don’t leave again.”

That… That King could do. 


End file.
